I prayed you weren't part,
Down and played us it stand,
Ruined and rained upon,
Little us fallen apart.
Frame out of bruises,
Busy it sound us been used,
Plant of no living roots,
Where have our seeds fallen...
Our dreams of hope,
Burnt with their lips of deceit...
Now stranded we are in our own future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem